


lion couchant

by ladderax (allnuthatchforest)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Bottom Damen, Canon Gay Relationship, Come Eating, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:11:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6406366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allnuthatchforest/pseuds/ladderax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurent hopes Damen isn't too tired to receive a gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lion couchant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anamuan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamuan/gifts).



> anamuan gave me the prompts "Damen liked how much Laurent wanted to touch him: he who wanted to touch no one, wanted to touch him" and "Care and Feeding of Your ~~Personal Pet~~ (Husband)". I decided I'd combine them.
> 
> The title is a heraldic term meaning a lion at rest but awake.

It had been a frustrating day of negotiations with the northern kyroi over the hunting rights of Veretian visitors, and Laurent needed a long ride to clear his head. When he returned to their quarters at Nikandros’s villa, Damen was already asleep. 

Damen lay on his stomach, naked except for a light silk sheet that covered his lower back and ass and then twisted between his splayed thighs, leaving his legs bare. The candlelight cast him in chiaroscuro, painting every rise and furrow of his powerful muscles in even greater contrast. Laurent walked carefully over to their bed and knelt down next to Damen, not wanting to wake him just yet. 

Laurent reached out and touched Damen's right shoulderblade at the place where light met shadow, ran his finger down that border line until it reached the bramble of scar tissue. His hand detoured down Damen's side, dipped slightly under his ribcage to feel the rippling muscle of his abdomen, then skimmed over Damen's hips, disturbing the sheet that just barely protected his barely existent modesty. If Damen had been anyone else, Laurent would have thought that the sheet had been artfully placed, to tease Laurent with the promise of revealing one of his most alluring features. But with Damen one could never tell what was an attempt at seduction and what was him merely existing--guileless, unselfconscious, infuriatingly beautiful. 

As Laurent began to trace the edge of the sheet, Damen shifted his hips and let out a soft moan. Most of his face was hidden behind his arm, but Laurent could see the edge of a smile, the twitch of long, dark lashes. 

"Too tired to help me out of these filthy clothes?" Laurent murmured, bending close to his ear. Damen's eyes blinked open and he turned his head to look Laurent in the face. 

"What will you do if I say yes?" 

"Then you won't get the gift I have for you tonight," Laurent said.

"Hmmm...let me guess." Damen rolled over onto his back and rested his arm behind his head. "A treatise on the natural history of the Arranese marsh grouse." 

"As if I'd give you that. It would be utterly wasted on you. You'd end up throwing it at a spider." 

"You're still upset about that?" Damen chuckled. 

"About what? That you permanently damaged one of two existing manuscripts of Vautin's collected lectures to kill a house spider? That the most valiant man I have ever met loses all reason over a creature the size of a thumbnail?" Laurent danced his fingers across Damen's shoulder in imitation of a spider's scurry. 

"It was bigger than a thumbnail," muttered Damen. "So what is this gift you have for me? And if it has anything to do with spiders you are sleeping in the grass tonight." 

"Help me undress first," Laurent said, grinning. "And then I'll show you." 

Damen pushed himself up to his feet, allowing the sheet to fall away unceremoniously, and Laurent looked over the full picture he presented. He was magnificent naked. His olive-brown skin glowed with health and youth and candlelight; he was the perfect balance of raw power and grace, and Laurent wanted nothing more than to touch him everywhere all at once. But he knew that they both got off on this ritualistic deferment of their desires, so he took a step back, squaring his shoulders and straightening his spine with a half-smile. Damen approached him and set to work, starting with the intricate laces of his sleeves. 

"Would you like to take a bath?" Damen said, soft and low. 

Laurent shook his head. "That would be a waste of water. I have a feeling I'll just be getting filthy again." 

Understanding immediately, Damen leaned in and breathed an eager half-kiss against Laurent's ear. Laurent inhaled, catching the fresh scent of olive oil and lemon verbena on Damen's skin and hair. 

"I see you've already had your bath," Laurent murmured. “You smell good.” 

Damen smiled, deft fingers moving up to the laces at Laurent's throat. "I did. I didn't want to be caught...unprepared." 

"I am curious," Laurent said, raising both eyebrows, "about the extent of your preparation." 

As Damen moved behind Laurent to ease the jacket off of his shoulders, he leaned to whisper in Laurent's ear. "No detail has been neglected." 

"None?" Laurent looked at Damen over his shoulder. "Perhaps I will have to do a full inspection. To make sure you were as thorough as you claim." 

Laurent felt Damen's sudden sharp intake of breath, and he bit his lip in anticipation. 

After that, Damen significantly picked up his pace in removing Laurent's clothes. He was clearly trying his best not to seem desperate or rushed, keeping the rhythm of his fingers steady and pausing to press a worshipful kiss to the bare skin he revealed, but Laurent took great pleasure in knowing how much Damen was looking forward to what Laurent was promising. 

"I love," Laurent said, breaking the rustling silence, "how eager you are to spread your legs for my cock." 

Damen, on his knees in front of Laurent, looked up, dark eyes wide and shining. "I love it. I love it almost as much as I love when you spread your legs for mine."

"Almost?" Laurent huffed in feigned offense.

"A man is allowed his preferences." Damen slid the trousers past Laurent's hips, nuzzled the side of his thigh. 

Laurent stepped out of his pants, fully naked now, and reached out to press a thumb against Damen's lower lip. "We'll see about those preferences when I'm done with you tonight." 

Damen surged up and met Laurent's lips with his. As he returned the kiss, Laurent walked Damen backwards toward the bed and pushed him down onto it on his back. Damen reached over to the bedside table for the familiar little bottle of oil, breaking the kiss just long enough to hand it to Laurent. 

Laurent set the bottle aside for the moment and knelt between Damen's spread thighs. He shifted back and lay on his hips to give his mouth better access, sucking kisses across the well-defined ridge of the sartorial muscle of Damen's left thigh, down toward the kneecap, then nuzzling back up. He let himself savor the taste of Damen, clean sweat and olive oil soap. He wanted to leave marks here, marks that would be visible tomorrow beneath Damen's short tunic. It was imprudent and improper, he knew, but he couldn't resist the urge to show everyone that every inch of Damen's body belonged to him. And Damen, he knew, would never object, because he desired the same thing. 

Laurent buried his nose in Damen's pubic hair and let his hands wander up and down Damen's thighs, stroking and kneading. Damen's breathing was deepening, becoming sonorous, shading into moans. Laurent dragged his lips down the shaft of Damen's cock, feeling it twitch beneath his lips. He took the head into his mouth and pressed the tip of his tongue to the underside, filled his mouth with spit to make the slide down the shaft easier. He took Damen in all the way until his nose touched Damen's pubic hair, kept him engulfed there for a long, sucking pause before releasing him partway to focus on the exquisitely sensitive head and underside. 

Laurent's tongue kept up the pressure on the underside while his lips tugged Damen's foreskin back and forth, back and forth, a lazy, slow rhythm. The pad of Laurent's thumb luxuriated for a moment over the velvety skin of Damen's balls and he let himself enjoy the soft weight in his palm while his fingertips crept down to massage the firm, smooth stretch of skin that led the way to his ultimate goal. An excited gasp from Damen made Laurent grin. Just a little farther back and he was _there_. Damen's thighs spasmed and squeezed Laurent's shoulders when the tip of Laurent's index finger nudged his entrance. 

The salty tang of precome bloomed inside Laurent's mouth and he smiled and withdrew his lips from Damen's cock. Damen wasn't going to be allowed to come just yet.

Laurent sat back on his heels and drank in the sight before him; Damen leaning back on his elbows, flushed chest expanding and contracting with heavy breaths, a stray sleep-rumpled black curl plastered to his cheek. Laurent pushed Damen's knees apart further and spread his buttocks with both hands. It was apparent that Damen had shaved just this evening, and his plum-brown hole felt supple to the touch. _Well prepared indeed_. He rubbed Damen there with his thumb for a leisurely few moments, making Damen clutch the sheets and throw his head back. 

"Your preparations are to my liking," Laurent said, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt. "You have passed inspection." 

It was still a special thrill to be able to be allowed to do this to Damen. To drink in the sight of him with his thighs spread, offering his clean-shaven hole to Laurent's eyes and fingers and mouth and cock. To know that Damen, who had never even considered doing this before he met Laurent, trusted him with this most delicate and hidden part of his body. An electric current of desire and anticipation tingled from the back of Laurent's neck and down his spine, crackled wild and heavy in his chest, sent lightning strikes through his belly and down to his cock. 

" _Eísai ómorfi_ ," Laurent whispered as he leaned forward to press his forehead to Damen's. The Old Akielon words made Damen's mouth fall open and his obsidian-dark eyes widen, dazed despite all the times he'd heard these words from Laurent before. He felt Damen's heartbeat speed up against his palm as he moved it over Damen's sweat-slick chest on the way to push Damen's arms up to frame his head. _You are beautiful_. Laurent meant those words with his entire being. Damen was more beautiful than any man Laurent had ever encountered in life, art, or imagination, like the demigod hero of some epic poem with his dazzling black eyes and full lips and a smile so true and comforting it felt like a certain omen of a blessed future. 

Those lips, that smile, they were Laurent's to kiss. So he kissed them, sucking Damen's lower lip, the tip of his tongue. Damen's mouth tasted of spearmint leaves and warmth, which had a taste of its own. Time always got distorted when he and Damen kissed, and he wasn't sure how long he lost himself in that soft, dark space before the bump of Damen's cock against his reminded him that he had other things to attend to at the moment. 

Laurent knelt back and drizzled oil over his middle and index fingers. "Ready?" he asked with a tilt of his head. Damen gulped and nodded. Laurent resumed the massage, but with a little more pressure this time, working to relax Damen enough that he could push a finger in. Damen breathed deep and slow to assist Laurent's efforts. Then the tip of Laurent's finger was in, and it wasn't much longer before Damen's body yielded just that little bit more to let Laurent slide past the initial clench. Laurent fucked Damen with slow strokes of his finger, just exploring and teasing for now. 

"Laurent," Damen groaned. 

"Want more?" Laurent asked.

Damen's hand came down to clutch at his cock. He thrusted his hips, fucking himself on Laurent's finger. 

That was a yes, then. 

"Pillow," Laurent commanded.

Damen flung a pillow at Laurent, hitting him in the shoulder. Laurent lifted Damen's hips up and slid the pillow beneath the small of his back, giving him better access and a better angle at which to hit the core of Damen's pleasure. 

"Another finger?" asked Laurent, his hand splayed on Damen's belly to press him in place. Whenever they made love, he enjoyed watching the changes it wrought on Damen's body; rivulets of sweat dripped from his abdomen down into the tight curls surrounding his cock, his already large nipples were darkened and stiff. Laurent wanted to be closer to all of him. He hoisted one of Damen's legs over his shoulder so that Damen's calf pressed hard into his back, heel digging in like he was a horse Damen wanted to turn. 

"Yes," Damen gasped. "This. Please." 

When Laurent had fed another finger into Damen, pushing past the resistance more easily this time, he leaned back down and touched his lips to the hot, leaking tip of Damen's cock. He felt the abrupt tautening of Damen's balls against his palm and sought more of that, simultaneously taking Damen deeper into his mouth and crooking his fingers inside Damen's body. 

Damen's hips bucked up into Laurent's mouth and Laurent hooked his fingers again, which drew a long, low moan from Damen that vibrated through Laurent's entire body. Damen was so, so close, and denying him right now was not in Laurent's plans. He sucked Damen with gentle, savoring pressure, stroked his prostate with more come-hither gestures, and with the hand still on Damen's abdomen he could feel that the tension inside him was reaching volcanic proportions. 

Damen's heel spurred into Laurent's spine bruisingly hard, a motion Laurent knew he'd apologize for later. Laurent didn't care. He pulled his mouth off of Damen and moved his hand down from Damen's abdomen to wrap around the base of his cock.

"You won't be spilling in my mouth tonight," Laurent said. 

Damen raised his head, a monumental effort given the state of his mind and body. "Are you..." he asked, sounding worried.

Laurent chuckled. "I'm fine. I only wanted to give you something different." 

He wrapped his hand tight around Damen and caressed the slit, gliding the foreskin up and down. Damen's entire body tensed, the tightening of his buttocks raising him up off the pillow and fucking him deeper into Laurent's hand, and it only took one more graze of his fingers against Damen's prostate before his cock spasmed and thick pulses of come fountained over Laurent's fist. Laurent knew what it felt like to have an orgasm like that, that came from the very core of you and sent its throbbing waves into every muscle and bone and organ, that had its way with you relentlessly and wrung you out until you forgot the day and place and your own name. 

It was Damen who had given him the knowledge of that, and it was a gorgeous feeling to be able to return the favor. 

It was long moments before Damen stopped spurting in his hand. His breathing was still heavy, and his shoulders gave a little shudder as his head dropped back and fell to the side. Laurent lowered Damen's leg to the side, slid his fingers slowly from Damen's hole and wiped them carelessly on the sheets. His other hand was still dripping with come. He rested that wrist lightly on Damen's collarbone and leaned on his elbow to gaze at Damen. Damen opened his groggy eyes and made an incomprehensible noise of satisfaction.

A soft, admiring smile tugged at Laurent’s lips. "Are you too exhausted to be fed?" 

"Yes," Damen murmured. "But I want you to do it anyway." 

"Your exertion and sacrifice in the service of Vere shall be rewarded." Laurent kissed the tip of Damen's nose. "Open up." 

Damen's lips parted. Laurent painted his lower lip with a smear of come; Damen licked it into his mouth, groaning as he did. 

"Do you like how you taste?" asked Laurent. 

"I think I need more before I can judge," said Damen. Laurent pressed his palm to Damen's mouth, a silent command. Closing his eyes, Damen licked from the base of the life line to the center of the head line, sucked a kiss to the pad beneath Laurent's middle finger. Laurent brought his knuckles to Damen's lips then, for Damen to mouth at the thick rivulets of come. 

Damen let a milky drop linger on his tongue, a deliberate tease. Laurent was all too happy to take the bait. He licked into Damen's mouth, tasting his tongue and his seed for an indulgent second, before pulling back to gaze down at Damen. Laurent wanted to make sure he had Damen's full attention here.

"Don't fall asleep on me now." 

Damen's eyes opened lazily, unfocused and glassy with fatigue, and he smiled with one corner of his mouth. "Never," he said. "You're always worth staying awake for." 

Laurent licked the last runnel of Damen's spendings off of his knuckles. A slow, teasing show, eyes locked on Damen's to monitor his thoughts. Damen was still breathing heavily, and he was having trouble holding his head up, but he propped himself up on his elbows, attention rapt as though Laurent was about to impart some crucial intelligence. 

Onto his lips, he dabbed the drip that had traveled down to his wrist. Holding a small sip's worth between tongue and teeth, he leaned in slowly and opened his mouth, an invitation. Damen met him halfway. He tongued at Laurent's lips and teeth, angled for every last taste of himself he could find. As always, he was so eager to please, so eager to participate in whatever scene Laurent had set for them. 

"Good, isn't it?" Laurent whispered against Damen's lips. "You taste so good." 

“Especially when it’s mixed with the taste of you.” Damen gazed up at him. “What do you want me to do for you?”

Laurent shook his head. “I don’t need anything tonight. But Nikandros had better not have any surprise pheasant-hunting expeditions planned for tomorrow morning, because I’m hoping to spend the morning inside you.”

Damen sucked in an excited breath. “I will break every one of Nikandros’s bows myself if need be.” 

Laurent rose to wash his hands and fetch the post-lovemaking necessities. He tended to Damen with his usual care, pouring him water to drink, toweling the sweat and come off of his body with a damp cloth. As he stood to return the towels to the washbasin, he took a long look back at Damen, stretched out languorously in the silk bedding, sweat highlighting his clavicle and cheekbones and hips. Exertion became him beautifully. He was always a devastatingly handsome man, but after fighting or sport or making love, his skin glowed, his curls shone, his eyes sparked with power and intelligence and vitality. Laurent wanted to spend ages just basking in his nearness.

"What’s on your mind?" Damen asked. By no means was this an unusual thing for either of them to do, just standing there gazing at the other. Neither was asking questions like these.This was one of their rituals; rapt attention, feigned curiosity, and confessions of awe. 

"I'm just. Looking at you," Laurent breathed. "Your skin is always so radiant after this. It's breathtaking." 

"You're breathtaking," Damen said, smiling. "Always." 

"I have something that I think might suit you in your present state," Laurent said. "Aesthetically, and hopefully in other ways as well." 

"You've already painted me with come, so I can't imagine what else it could be," Damen laughed.

Laurent rolled his eyes and reached into the lining of the jacket that he had hung over a chair. He pulled out a small calfskin bag that weighed barely nothing in his hand. 

"This is the reason I was late in returning tonight," he began. "I hope...Well." He fiddled with the drawstrings and pinched out a small object, which he wrapped deftly in his fist. Damen looked at him with his head cocked, brows lowered in questioning. "Give me your left hand." 

Damen sat up and offered his hand, eyes widening as realization dawned. "Laurent--this is--"

"My answer." 

Mouth and eyes wide, Damen stared at the gold ring. From the bezel gazed an intricately sculpted lion's head, whose mane transformed into the rays of the Veretian starburst. The lines of the starburst bisected the lion’s face, and the lion’s features were slanted along their biases. But the cutting did not, to Laurent's mind at least, look like a mutilation; rather, the inventive merging seemed to intensify the lion's grandeur, lend it an otherworldly beauty. It was a melding of the organic and the geometric, of flesh and light, of gentleness and ferocity. It was the difficulty of telling which originated where, because each had the qualities of the other within itself. It was Damen, and it was him; it was the joining of their kingdoms and bodies and fates. He prayed that Damen would like it. 

"So." Damen looked up at him after examining the ring for what felt like an age. "We are to be married." 

Laurent replied with a dumbstruck smile. "It appears we are." 

At that Damen grinned and threw his arms around Laurent's body. They held each other, laughing and grinning into each other's shoulders. Laurent was the first to pull back, resting his hands on Damen's biceps. 

"The reason I said I wanted to wait when you proposed--" Laurent began. 

"Shh. You don't have to explain," Damen said softly. 

"It's easier if I don't," Laurent acknowledged. He brushed a strand of hair out of Damen’s eyes and regarded him with a tilt of his head. "What do you think of the design?"

"It's exquisite." Damen admired his hand. "Your idea?" 

"Yes. I thought about it a lot. Rejected a lot of sketches. You probably saw me sneaking some of them into the fire." 

Damen shook his head and laughed. "Suddenly my grandfather's betrothal brooch pales in comparison." 

"Well, I didn't make it myself, just designed it. And don't you dare speak ill of the betrothal brooch I'll be wearing as of tomorrow. It is mine now, and it is poor manners to insult another man's jewelry." 

Damen pressed a sudden, brief kiss to Laurent's lips. "You know, we can wait as long as you need to. And you can change your mind at any time." 

Laurent sighed. "You haven't learned yet that when I make a promise I intend to keep it?" 

"This is different." Damen leaned back and looked soberly at Laurent. "This is the rest of our lives. And it has repercussions for both of our nations. I trust your judgment where we are both concerned."

An uncomfortable feeling sunk in the pit of Laurent's stomach. "Are you having second thoughts?" 

Damen's gaze narrowed and fixed on Laurent. "No. I may be a fool about this, but I will not waver from my determination to make you my husband. If you will have me." 

Laurent's breath came out of him in a rush. "And I will have you." His smile twisted suggestively. "I will have you again and again and again. For the rest of our lives." 

In one swift movement, Damen drew Laurent down with an arm to lie beside him. "The rest of our lives," he repeated, clearly pleased with the sound of those words. 

Laurent pressed his cheek against Damen’s shoulder and laced their fingers together. He could feel the ring between his fingers, infused with the heat of Damen’s hand. He smiled at the thought of the kyroi seeing the ring at breakfast the next morning; imagined the ring shining on Damen’s hand as he pulled back a bowstring, lifted a chalice, signed a treaty into effect. 

Best of all, though, was imagining Damen wearing the ring while they made love. 

That would be the very first order of business tomorrow morning, Laurent thought, and grinned as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
